


Medicinal Secrets

by PumpkinMarsh



Category: IT (2017), IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Biting, Blood, Degradation, Drooling, Drugged Sex, F/F, Face-Fucking, Face-Sitting, Fem pennywise, Grinding, Humiliation, Injections, Needles, Pennywise (IT) Being an Asshole, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Reader-Insert, She got the tiddy, Smut, Tentacles, Trypanophobia, Xenophilia, lots of drool
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2020-11-15 02:34:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20858810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PumpkinMarsh/pseuds/PumpkinMarsh
Summary: Living in Derry has proven itself to be quite a challenge and the local mass-murdering clown that has made you its latest object of curiosity. You've managed to avoid letting It know your fears but it was only a matter of time before you were unveiled.





	Medicinal Secrets

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I've joined the dark side with my fellow clown fuckers all because of a weirdly erotic dream I had. After the first story I read here, I was hooked and I don't ever want to go back.
> 
> HUGE SHOUTOUT TO @clownsxclowns for helping me edit this!!! I love you b, I ain't never gon stop loving you b. 
> 
> Also, y'all should check out red_and_blue_sewer_circus because they got me *hooked* on fem Pennywise.
> 
> I switch the pronouns a lot (it/he/she)

Stress was a varying yet consistent thing. It could result from a multitude of situations, and each time, you had the same reaction: wobbling body, suffocatingly rapid pants, and unadulterated panic.

Trembling hands furiously scrunched bundles of wet cloth and faux fur, drawn-out squelching echoed around you. You were used to the gnawing effects of your overworked mind — the bathroom cabinet wouldn’t be so filled with half-emptied pill bottles if that wasn’t the case — but today had set you back. Back to a time where you couldn’t see, where you couldn’t feel _ anything _ but infuriating dread.

You hooked your fingers over the curve of your palm and scratched, eyes glazed over as you reminisced the day’s events.

In a rush to avoid being late for work, you had forgotten your umbrella and arrived completely soaked. Then, on your way back from buying groceries, you had to repurchase several items after being hassled by a group of mischievous middle schoolers. It was embarrassing enough that you, a full-grown adult, couldn’t fight off a bunch of children, but when people watched the predicament unfold with a disgusted look, as if they were witnessing a lunatic on the verge of a breakdown, a familiar leaden weight settled within your stomach, and you knew it was only a matter of time before you couldn’t function. Not without the help of your trusty medication that awaited from the comfort of your home.

Your feet dragged against the cold tiles and, after sloppily popping a few medicine tablets from the nearby bottle, you headed towards your couch, hoping to take a quick nap to ease your stressed nerves. 

Derry had seemed like such a lovely place to move to; lush green forests, tight-knit community that you were absolutely _ thrilled _ to connect with, small population meaning no high traffic hours — something you had unfortunately grown accustomed to in your previous home, and since you had moved from the warm South, cute sweaters and knitted hats were always needed. 

However, now, you were having second thoughts.

The rain would persistently seep into your socks, the number of insects during summer was unbearable, no one seemed to give two shits about the people around them, the drivers were just as rabid, and you were constantly ridiculed over the layers of clothes on your back. _ ‘Eskimo girl.’ _ It infuriated you. More so that the insult wasn’t even clever, just a half-assed remark created by bored coworkers. Though, it did the trick — insecurities had caused you to underdress on more than one occasion, leading to several restless sick nights.

An unopened letter rested on the kitchen counter, and by the mailing address, you already knew what was inside. During your lunch break, you had overheard a few nurses mention ** _it_**. Mention that over the next week, all employees were to be mandated into getting the measles vaccine. It made sense: you worked in a hospital — sure, as a secretary, but considering the number of biohazards you were surrounded by, it was a wonder they hadn’t done it sooner. 

You weren’t able to hear what other gossip was said in the break room, since a dire sickly sensation bubbled up from inside, laggardly consuming you like thick tar. 

However, as soon as the feeling came, you coerced yourself to drink it down and move on. You couldn’t even avoid the mandatory shots or else, IT would know.

A month had passed since IT had come to you, forcing a weird deal of sorts: you’d become its plaything, and in return, he wouldn’t _ ‘feast on your flesh and pick at your bones.’ _ You weren’t even sure why he chose you to harrow. The only reason you could think of was that he was yet to figure out what shook you to the core, what terrified you. 

Apparently, anxiety and fear were two different things — two different tastes, of which he preferred the latter.

That wasn't to say that you couldn't be started. Hell, all he did was jump at you with frights and scares. For example, it wasn't uncommon to find a decomposed hand pulling at your ankle while you laid in bed, or to find a tarantula in your medicine cabinet, leaping onto your face. Or, worst of all, randomly shoved into a dark closet filled with murmuring voices whispering things so grotesque, the most hardened person would run off crying for their mother.

Every time, you felt your heart bounce up, getting caught in your throat. Your back would prick up with cold goosebumps, though you were never stuck in this state for longer than a few seconds. In fact, you’d simply brush it off, waiting patiently until he was done with his antics for the day. You could practically hear the clown’s frustrated growls as you went on. 

One of the perks of growing up as a horror fanatic was that the movies and ‘haunted’ locations you frequented made you extremely tolerant. In fact, the sole reason why you had stopped buying tickets to either was because they wouldn't do anything for you. It came to a point where you’d sit in a theatre, counting down the seconds until the next monster would pop up. In the case of the ‘haunted’ attractions, you’d merely press on, expecting the costumed actor to come out of their position to chase you down with a rubber axe. Heavy guilt, however, lingered when they would, quite obviously, become dejected by your lack of response.

Funny enough, without this endurance, you might have not been able to continue functioning like a normal person – anyone else would have verged lunacy seeing just how frequently IT liked to mess with you. Your anxious spirit would still squirm at his obscure attempts, but by the end of the day, regular interactions with your boss and coworkers were far more effective than Pennywise’s fruitless onsets.

You were proud and preferred to keep things the way they were – constant teases throughout the day without any real consequences. This meant that you made damn sure your thoughts never dwelled on your real fears, not even for a second. Of course you had phobias, you were only human. And if he ever got ahold of them… You didn’t want to find out. 

Though, unfortunately, you may have slipped up.

You sank into the sofa and hid your face in its plush cushions. The clock on the wall ticked impatiently, acting as a reminder that it was getting late. The hospital hours were nearing its closing time. 

With a long sigh, you pulled away and sluggishly walked towards the kitchen. You ripped open the letter, grabbed your landline telephone, and shakily dialed the numbers written on the sheet of paper. The phone rested snug between your cheek and shoulder, ringing once before connecting.

You waited patiently as the woman on the other side finished introducing the establishment’s name, bustling voices and noisy clatters from their end acted as a clear indication of their busy schedule. 

“Hi, yes, I was calling to see if I could book, uh, an appointment.” Your nimble fingers toyed with the curls of the landline, tangling it in your sweating palm. 

Her exasperated groan caused you to clench your brows in embarrassment. You weren’t really a ‘people person’ per se – a bit ironic since your job was made up of sitting at a desk, talking to dozens of strangers. 

“An appointment for what? What department – do you know?” You didn’t recognize her voice, which was odd; you were positive you knew the majority of your job’s fellow employees. At this fact, your grasp tensed, the whites of your knuckles displayed around the plastic handle. 

“O-oh, um, yeah. Sorry. I just need to get the measles shot, you know? I work here and—”

She interrupted you by saying your name, and you paused, trying to remember when, if at all, you introduced yourself. 

“R-right, well, w-w-we can send someone over there to get it d-done by today.” Your face scrunched up at her mocking tone. Stunned with disbelief, you gaped and, as the hospital’s very own employee, remembered the countless lectures from your superiors, each molding your responses to correctly handle callers. Not one for confrontation, you silently decided to call the office at a later time, and you’d make damn sure that she was left without a job.

Thinking about what she said, you wondered since when had they been doing house visits for a simple vaccine routine? Not to mention, you did _ not _ want to get injected today. You needed at least a week to build up some pretend confidence to go through with it.

“I mean,” the woman continued, “it is mandatory for our employees and if you’re uncomfortable, we can offer a personal visit with our certified nurses. You know, if you’re scared.” The background turned silent and you couldn’t hear anything other than her harsh words. 

You nearly choked, quickly trying to retort. “E-excuse me? I never said I was afraid, I just—”

“So you wouldn’t mind getting it today? It’s just a prick.” 

You scratched your shoulder with unease, scraping it open.

“Just a simple injection.” You could practically hear her smiling.

The sound of your teeth grinding seemed to reverberate throughout the kitchen, her jeering attitude lingering around in your head.

“Actually, you’ll probably be needing a few more just in case. You’re not scared,_ are yoU?” _ The last word didn’t appear like it came from the phone’s speaker, but rather behind you. With a quick turn, you hectically scanned the room, searching for any intruder only to find nothing out of place. 

A brief thought of Pennywise flashed your head but you were fast to refute the idea, fast to deny the possibility that he had figured you out.

The woman spoke once more. “Hello? Ma’am?” 

Your pointer finger and thumb pinched the bridge of your nose tightly. You just had to get it over and done with, and you’d be able to have a good night’s rest. Everything would go back to the same. These convincing thoughts pushed you to your decision. 

“Yeah, I’ll do it today. What ti—”

A loud clap, along with a giddy high-pitched giggle brought you out of your tired daze. “Great! See you in 10 minutes.” Your eyes shot wide open, but before you could voice any concern, a monotone beep signaled that the line was disconnected.

Something you hadn’t sensed in a long time infiltrated your insides, coating them in the sticky, warm sensation; one you hadn’t felt in a while. Fear. It filled you up and threatened to spill out in the form of sweat and tears. With a few quivering breaths, you placed the landline back and stiffly sat in a tall stool beside you. 

A flurry of thunderous bangs jerked you out of your muddled state. Time had frozen and the only noise for miles was the wood splintering at the pressure of the knocks, which, the more you delayed, the seemingly faster they became. 

You glanced at the clock. 

It hadn’t even been 3 minutes. 

The air appeared to simmer around the wooden frame, much like the wavering heat of a hot Summer day or crackling fire. Your body was on autopilot when it got up and walked towards the door. Internally, you struggled as your hand slowly rose to grab the door handle, all knocking ceased as you twisted the knob.

At the opening stood a slim, pale woman with short auburn hair that curled close to her scalp. Her lips were colored a deep crimson, and as you briefly racked her frame, noticing her small perky breasts, you had to arch your head to meet her heavy gaze. Easily, she towered over you. Akin to women portrayed in fashion illustrations in magazines, magazines in which you’d skim while waiting in line at a store, she was tall, slender and pretty.

Correction. 

This woman was jaw-droppingly _ gorgeous. _

You glimpsed at her frame, noting that she wasn’t wearing any scrubs but rather a grey dress, complemented with a white apron, and cap. You arched a brow in confusion at her entire outfit was reminiscent of the ‘old-fashioned’ Red Cross nurses from the forties.

“Aren’t you going to let me in, sweet?” 

Her painted mouth lifted in a menacing smile while her icy blue eyes stared into you. She seemed so recognizable, her demeanor, look, and attitude all yelled something in common. 

Pennywise.

Just as you were going to hesitantly greet him — her — she pulled out a silver tray from behind her, a syringe laid neatly on it, while the needle itself was exaggerated; long and hefty. Your stomach lurched and the hairs on your neck slowly stood up. 

“Time for your medicine!”

Spiteful defiance bubbled up your throat and in a blind rage, you threw yourself against the door in an attempt to ward off the inhuman threat on the other side.

While IT had been toying with you relentlessly in the past few weeks, you had always managed to stay on top of things — managed to keep the beast at bay. Perhaps this had led you into a false sense of security. 

You knew what she was capable of, and this only fueled your unbridled pride, like gasoline pouring over an untamed fire. Hell, you were starting to think you were pretty damn invincible. Here was the so-called ‘devourer of worlds’ — or whatever it was she called herself, you never paid much attention to its egocentric rants — yet not once did she reach any of your limits. She never once harmed you too severely. Never once drove you to insanity.

It was a curious thing. If she was as powerful as IT claimed, why were you still alive?

Though, now that you were reflecting, perhaps this was the case because IT had yet to figure out what made you tick. What made you scream. It was only until just now that she had discovered as such. It seemed like your brief luck had run out.

A scintillant black heel was jammed inside, putting an end to the barricade. Pale willowy hands gripped the wooden slab, while elongated nails with black grime besmirching their jagged ends punctured the surface below them.

_ “Naaauughty child…” _

Every syllable was spit out with contempt, and waves of penitence trickled over your nerves. Her venomous tone doused your fighting spirit, making it retreat into the depths of your mind. What remained of your previous confidence were but mere traces. Their pitiful existence too small to initiate any possible spark. 

You warily glanced around the house. Perhaps you could run away and hide long enough for IT to cool down to the point where you could beg for forgiveness. With a catty shake of your head, you ruled out the humiliating idea. If you were going to die, then you’d do so with an ounce of dignity.

A distorted chuckle rippled in the air, vibrating off the walls as it increased in volume. IT clearly found your fruitless attempts entertaining. 

“Nooo escape for the trapped lamb, no.” You frowned, frustrated at her choice of odd words. While you usually found it amusing, you wished for once she’d speak bluntly, instead of adopting riddle-like tangents. It only served to irritate you more, resulting in a positive surge of her wanton behavior.

Qualms of absolute horror set in as a number of gangly limbs forcefully pulled themselves into the open gap, twisting and snapping to fit like a revolting jigsaw puzzle. Nausea took over when one of its arms contorted enough to break the ulna inside, layers of muscles becoming obsolete as the bloodied shard of bone stabbed through them. You swallowed a mouthful of acidic bile, the burning sensation tore up your esophagus.

You decided that running was the only option. As you jumped from the door, your legs cramped at the sudden burst of movement. The backdoor that led to the garage was at the end of the hallway, but before you could even touch the carpeted floor, your entire world spun downwards. Your nose cracked as it hit frigid tiles, and a metallic liquid, warm and sticky, dripped off your upper lip. Your tongue absentmindedly glided across your mouth, collecting goblets of the scarlet viscosity. The clawed limb around your ankle, which you were only suddenly aware of, tugged once more, dragging you far away from your only means of escape. 

Once again, you were maneuvered until you laid flat on your back with her hands clutching you from the back of your knees. You messily shook your head in a hazy protest. 

“No, no, Penn, please, don’t do this.” Choked words were slurred together and fell on deaf ears. The worries from earlier regarding humiliation left your mind as you felt you were getting closer to your demise. Pennywise straddled your hips and locked them in place with her plump thighs. She poised her body above yours and began to shake uncontrollably, exaggeratingly so. Her face mimicked your panic and she began to weep. 

_ “No, no, please!” _ The mocking expression remained for a few seconds, prolonging the ridiculing gesture before it morphed into a cruel grin. Large cold palms began to travel and explore your flesh with unrestrained curiosity. They only paused occasionally to pinch at sensitive areas, prying short bursts of laughter from her whenever you flinched. 

Then, unexpectedly, her actions halted. Soft rumbling emanated from the creature, while a single eye drifted its focus away from you, the other staring right through you. You felt her thumb trace your chin then, to your lips as the digit smeared the pool of blood across your mouth. You stayed painfully still, too afraid to interrupt her grotesque act. Strings of slobber soaked your clothes, the damp fabric clung onto you like tacky glue. You briefly wondered if she had forgotten the syringes since you hadn’t seen them again. Her attention snapped back towards you as this thought passed, her teeth prolific in her impossibly stretched smile. If you squinted hard enough, you could make out the fleshy bits stuck in between her gums, evidence of her preferred meals. Her rotten breath singed your sense of smell, the need to gag planted thickly in the back of your throat — saliva frothing up at the anticipation of your stomach’s corrosive digestive juices.

A nimble finger poked the tip of your nose, “your punishment has not been forgotten. Such a stupid young thing!” You sharply turned away and looked at the floor in choleric embarrassment.

It definitely was not the appropriate time to care whether or not IT insulted you but a flurry of emotions clogged up your throat, a few choked sobs escaped without your wanting to. IT demeaned you with condescending coos and an ‘aww’ as she reached out and placed a hand behind your neck, gently tugging at the strands of frazzled hair. You were picked up from the ground and held mere inches away from her face. Ever so slowly did she bring herself closer to you, stopping as her moist lips hovered over yours. Her iron grip held you still, but it was clear from your persistent squirming that you were growing impatient. 

Wait, impatient? That was ridiculous. There was no way you felt anything close to lust for this maniac. Not to mention, even though you couldn’t deny that she was dangerously stunning, homophobic remarks rattled your brain. Derry was stuck in the past and its people were unforgiving. What if someone saw you in this position? From what you could see, the door was still wide open. You had managed to swallow your ‘abnormal’ sexual desires when you arrived in this town, to forcefully turn away from an attractive woman who’d pass by — their perfume lingering long after their departure — to indubitably hide yourself from the town’s judging stare, but the sting of contrition and regret continued to cut into you. And now here IT was, disguised as a woman with features beautiful enough to allure any human. You debated whether or not she had used this form to bait oblivious prey.

Sharp pain tingled from your scalp as her hand tightened. “Denying your depravity will get you nowhere. You have to play the game to win, yes you do.” 

Her ruby mouth came crashing down onto yours in a harsh kiss – messy, disorienting, and ridden with _ hunger. _ Your bottom lip was pulled by several fangs, pricking it until it was puffy and numb. You softly groaned with pain which prompted her to smirk. A slimy appendage touched your gums and clenched teeth. Her unoccupied hand rested on your midsection and began to clench the area tightly with a bruising force. 

“Aah!” Your cry allowed her tongue to swiftly enter and explore the wet cavern. You writhed under her hold as the muscle swirled around, restricting your airflow at some points because of the sheer size. It wasn’t until you felt spit spew out of her mouth that you were disgusted enough to start hitting her shoulders, naively hoping she’d back off. 

When she grimaced at your struggle and roughly dropped you, you winced as your head hit the ground. Without any time to recuperate, a flash of your fear came into view. A large syringe — bigger than before — laid by your side. You tried to twist your body with desperation, though your efforts were disturbed when charred claws easily grabbed both your wrists, bashing them against the floor. They restrained them tightly, holding them tight above your head and your joints cracked in protest. 

“Ah, ah, ah,” she wagged a finger as if she were nagging a child. “We wouldn’t want you to move around too much...”

You didn’t bother stopping the stream of tears that fell down your cheeks. 

Pathetic. 

The single word bounced around as you cried aloud. You never wanted to admit it, not even to yourself, but you felt affection toward Pennywise. It started as a naive curiosity when you first saw the clown hidden away amongst a clueless crowd at the carnival, and when he cornered you to tell you of his deal, your heart fluttered with excitement. 

You began to look forward to his presence at the end of a long day. His random touches and caresses only served to pull you deeper into this vicious game. That’s what it all must have been for IT. A sadistic, horrible game where there was only one winner — you were certain it wasn’t going to be you.

You wanted — no, _ should’ve _ felt hatred but the only thing that came to mind was thoughtless adoration. Pathetic indeed.

Penny let out a pleased hum, clearly enjoying your frantic self-deprecating thoughts, and stroked your cheek with its unoccupied hand. You clenched your eyes closed, no longer bearing the sight of the womanly figure on top of you, nor the needle that stayed at a nerve-wracking distance. She abruptly leaned towards you, opened her maw and gently traced your collarbone with pointed incisors. 

“Ooh, won’t you look at ol’ Pennywise? Promise I won’t bite!” She snapped her teeth with an audible ‘click.' 

You refused to give her a response, too afraid to bother moving or speaking. 

Her hand refrained its gentle petting. A cold wet sensation on your arm and the perforating smell of rubbing alcohol was what made you finally look. As she sloppily disinfected your arm — it was clear that she didn’t bother with technique as it did the trick of mortifying you nonetheless — you quickly realized that she was simply reenacting the role of a nurse preparing their patient for a vaccine.

Thick metal grazed your bicep, pressing ever so slightly. _ “Rules are broken, lessons are learned!” _ The song was giggled out, echoes of children bounced off the walls, and she started to push her weight on top of your thrashing body. 

“You’ll be a _ whooole _ lot easier to play with, eager and ready to take.” Just as you were going to question what she meant, a sharp stabbing pain shot up your arm. The needle must have been a few centimeters long because it kept digging into your flesh. You were certain it was going to touch bone but, thankfully, it stopped, nestled stiffly in muscle. You could feel it move around because of your trembles. 

You couldn’t breathe. Your pants were far too quick and short to properly fill your lungs with oxygen. Acid. Hot, blazing acid. That was what seemed to enter your system. Your entire right arm flailed violently before it dropped motionless onto the floor. Numbed warmth spread throughout, paralyzing everything in its path. No longer painful, your mind could finally focus on what was happening. You felt as if you weighed ten times your normal size — it was so hard to move. Even the simple act of breathing was made difficult; every exhale prolonged and heavy.

You stared at her with a half-lidded expression and she brought her hands up in a clap, the bells on the much more recognizable ruffled outfit jingled sweetly. 

“So nicely spread out in front of me… You look good enough to **eat**!”

As contradicting as it was, instead of attempting to move away, you wiggled your pelvis against her. A familiar ache settled in your groin and you were too exhausted to fight anymore, so you decided nothing too bad could come from giving yourself to IT, even if it was just for one night.

⸻

The floor felt cold to the touch. The only warmth came from the blood which trickled down Penny’s mouth as she continuously bit your thighs, licking them until the area was inflamed and irritated. Her hands rested under your rump, hoisting your entire lower half midair. Relentless nibbling resulted in giant ugly patches of plum and cerise as your legs, meat salted with fear, acted as her deranged platter on which she savored.

There was no painful sensation – whatever you were injected with apparently numbed you enough to not feel your tissue being stabbed and played with, though you were still able to sense her leathery tongue and soft kisses — but seeing yourself get chewed on was not a pretty sight. It terrified you, knowing that she could engulf you at any second, knowing that your life was in the _ very _ capable hands of the town’s local beast. Puffs of air hit your damp panties, you looked up and saw two sulfuric eyes glaring at you, strands of ember hair strung chaotically over her face.

"Such a tasty pet, sooo…" Her palm inched closer, thumb firmly stroking you through the fabric. Her words drifted off into a low growl, slobs of drool streaming down her chin.

“Mmn — ah, fuck!” A languid roll of her tongue thoroughly soaked the lacy undergarment, as her wriggling muscle played with the bundle of nerves, lapping between your folds. Desperate to feel more of her, you moved your hips, grinding against her mouth. A jolt of wanton lust occurred — as well as an unexpected yelp when she tore away from you, shutting her jaw loudly, and threateningly. Your noises prompted her snickers which sent deep vibrations through you. 

“Mmm, such _ filthy _ thoughts… Little one wants to play with the clown, does she now?”

Too ashamed to speak, you mewled and nodded, spreading yourself wider in hopes of convincing her to continue. Penny looked up in feigned thought, humming as if she were deciding something. Disappointingly, IT set you down. Your brows immediately furrowed with frustration at her actions, though she merely smirked and began to crawl up your body until she hooked her legs over your shoulders. Her knees rested on either side of your head, while her hips were suffocatingly close to your lips. The ivory suit folded away, dissipating into nothing, unveiling her pale bare mound. 

Without another word, Penny pressed herself over you, the faint smell of buttered popcorn filled your senses, bucking her slit roughly until you had no choice but to give in to her demands. Her arousal dripped into your mouth, reminiscent of candied syrup with a certain faint musk — rotten leaves.

You placed a palm on her waist, noting that her abdomen was flat without any indication of a navel, while your other hand traveled up her exposed skin, through the silken wrinkles and red pom-poms; it met the lump of her covered breast, pinching and groping. The sound of bells increased in speed as she frantically rammed into you, smearing and drenching the entire lower half of your face. You glanced up at her — frizzy ginger hair, features contorted in ecstasy, bottom lip torn apart by her teeth as she tried to stifle her lengthy moans. The mere image of her slightly turnt-up ‘brows’ and teary gaze would suggest that IT was anything but a power-hungry monster; instead, she resembled a needy thing, desperate for your touch.

Penny continuously watched the sight of you eating her cunt, expression ridden with a carnal desire as well as an overwhelming longing — longing to finish, longing to lose control, _ longing to _ ** _devour._ **

Experimentally, you prodded your tongue deeper, several hard ridges surrounded the muscle. Too hard for them to be flesh, too soft for bone. Then, they moved. Several somethings waved and twitched over her walls, as if they were going to poke out. You moved away, hoping to question her actions, only for small tendrils to wrap around your neck, keeping you in place.

Your muffled screams did nothing but excite her more, claws tangling in your hair and bringing you impossibly closer. 

_ “D-don’t mMMmmm–move, filthy thiiinngg….” _

A few of the slimy appendages, each secreting and pulsing, slipped into your mouth, jaw aching at the stretch. Sporadically, her movements jerked to a halt, short thrusts as her eyes rolled back and her cheeks tore up, opening like a carnivorous flower, unveiling hundreds of teeth with a luminous glow. However, before you could identify what the light was, her hand slipped away from your scalp and covered your vision. 

Broken hisses and rumbling snarls were the only things you could hear for what seemed like an eternity — a final spurt of warm liquid slid down your numb throat when she lifted her body off of you, many worm-like objects slithering away and creeping back inside.

Still unable to see, you struggled to yank at the fabric of her arm, wanting to both regain your sight and hold her close in an attempt to find comfort, to distract yourself from how vulnerable you were left. Soft traces over the side of your hairline lulled a wave of exhaustion over your limp body. 

Only for your eyes to widen at the sound of faint footsteps coming from the open doorway — possibly some neighbors strolling by the sidewalk.

You wanted to shout at her, to tell Pennywise to get off, but her gloved digits, suddenly lacking talons, inched down and clamped over your lips. Her facial structure was back to normal, and she quietly hushed your efforts, positioning herself between your spread thighs.

_ “Let them know of youur dirtyyy little secret… Of your,” _her exploring hand slipped between the slick of your legs, prodding and teasing, _“ _ ** _perversion._**_” _

You were tired of fighting, tired of rejecting, tired of _denying_.

You wryly shook in agreement — unwittingly accepting the Hell awaiting you in the near future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a very slow writer aaa but yes, I wanna say thanks again to @clownsxclowns for just??? being there when i need help????
> 
> Anyways, I ended up changing a lot of things because I'm indecisive like that but now, I'm personally happy with it :)

**Author's Note:**

> I'm a very slow writer aaa but yes, I wanna say thanks again to @clownsxclowns for just??? being there when i need help????
> 
> Anyways, I changed a lot of things (like turning this into a whole ass one-shot instead of 3 chapters like it was published originally) because I'm indecisive like that but now, I'm personally happy with it :)
> 
> Feel free to follow me @pennyship on Tumblr because that's where I store all my clown fetishes


End file.
